


According To Plan

by pumpkinpaperweight



Series: sge 1920s au [2]
Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: F/F, F/M, but i accidentally got far too invested, oh well... enjoy i guess, sge 1920s au, this is just for fun tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpaperweight/pseuds/pumpkinpaperweight
Summary: Tedros is a disenchanted rich boy with an act, trying to escape his suffocating lifestyle by performing in speakeasies and vaudeville clubs. When he’s employed in Club Avalon- the crown jewel in a string of such establishments, all owned by the same woman- he’s quickly caught up in the workings of the club and the dubious operations of Avalon’s notorious owner- an infamous mob boss who goes by the name of Lady A.-A collection of one-shots centred around this AU





	1. Chapter 1

“Aggie, you really gotta see this one.”  
Sophie’s heels clicked a quick, familiar pattern across the floor of her sister’s office as she entered without knocking. Agatha, sat at her desk with a stack of papers, didn’t even bother to look up.   
“New performer?”  
Sophie dropped into a chair, grinning.  
“You know it. For Avalon, no less. He’s real good.”  
Club Avalon, the crown jewel of the string of speakeasies and vaudeville clubs that her sister owned. Sophie snagged the best of the best for Avalon. The club had a relatively small number of immensely popular acts, so any new addition was guaranteed to bring in crowds.   
“Is he now?”  
“Sure. Sings proper nice. Pretty, too. He’ll have all the kids lookin’ to neck.”  
“Right.”  
Agatha still hadn’t looked up from her papers. Sophie frowned.  
“Don’t ya wanna hear? It’s your club.”  
Agatha ignored her, signing off a couple of papers and shoving them into a folder.  
Sophie sighed, leaning back in her chair.  
“Killjoy.” She mumbled.  
“So’s your old man.” Snapped Agatha, moving onto her last few papers. “Pipe down for a second.”  
Sophie scowled and bit back a comment about them being sisters, waiting for Agatha to finish, as she eventually would.  
Finally, Agatha set down her pen and turned to Sophie.  
“You say he was for Avalon?”  
Sophie perked up again, glad to be able to talk about him.  
“That’s right. The Evergirls will be glad of the new company.”  
The Evergirls was Sophie’s semi-official name for their trio of flappers, Beatrix, Reena, and Millicent, their longest running act at Avalon, and, currently, the most popular. But from what Sophie had seen over the last few days, she was wondering if they might be soon replaced as a public favourite.  
“What’s his name?” asked Agatha, breaking Sophie out of her thoughts.  
“Oh- Tedros. We’re just gonna call him that. Easy to remember, yeah?”  
“That’s his real name?”  
“Yeah.”  
Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly.  
“Hmm. Might wanna change it.”  
Sophie blinked.  
“Why?”  
Agatha ignored the question, posing one of her own;   
“When did he audition?”  
Sophie stared at her.  
“… Last week, I think? Thursday.”  
“He with anyone?”  
“No.”  
“What was it like?”  
Sophie frowned.  
“Actually, he looked a bit rough around the edges when he showed up. Looked tired. Sorta grimy, as well. I wasn’t convinced, but his audition was very good. Dolled up nice, later on, as well.”  
Agatha was silent for a few moments.  
“Tedros what?” she asked slowly.   
Sophie stared at her. While her sister never took anything for granted, this persistent questioning was suspicious.   
“You know him or something?” she asked.   
“Tedros what?” pressed Agatha. “His surname?”  
Sophie blew out a breath.  
“He said Meredith.”  
Agatha leaned back, staring at her with that familiar, faint furrow in her brow. Sophie waited for her to speak. It was never wise to interrupt her while she looked like that.  
Eventually, her sister rose and retrieved her coat.  
“I think I’ll come with you tonight. Check out this fella.”  
“He sound that good already, huh?”   
“No.”  
Sophie stared at her.  
Agatha drew a pistol from her desk drawer and tucked it in her coat pocket, and suddenly she didn’t look much like Agatha anymore.  
“He lied about his surname.”

-

The second they entered the club, Sophie knew it was a good night for business. Club Avalon was raucous, bursting with patrons despite the relatively early hour, almost choking with the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke that filled the room. Tonight’s popularity was almost certainly down to the new act- not that Sophie was as excited about that as she had been before.   
She had no idea what Agatha knew about Tedros that she didn’t, or how she knew he’d given them a fake name. While she trusted her sister, Agatha had a frustrating habit of keeping information to herself that Sophie didn’t appreciate.  
She cast a glance at Agatha beside her- except, not really Agatha, now they were here. If she were Agatha, they wouldn’t have gotten in without a password and would be able to walk through here without stares and whispers following them. 

Now it was Lady A walking beside her, cutting a harsh figure in her trademark red dress and black coat. Paired with her short hair and dark eyes of similar shades to one another, she was instantly recognisable, but simultaneously unapproachable, which was the way she liked it. Sophie could spot the new patrons almost immediately- they were the ones who shrank away or stared as they passed, unlike the regulars, who were used to their presence. One, in particular, stood out- a scrawny young man, stood awkwardly with a group of his fellows, who watched them pass with a wary gaze. He had a weaselly sort of face and very pale skin-

She’d seen him before. 

Sophie groaned quietly as they sat down at their booth, and nudged her sister.  
“That’s the butcher’s son- Hort. Got caught up in one of our last raids? Real stuck on me.”  
Agatha cocked a brow, watching the boy out of the corner of her eye.  
“What’s he here for?”  
Sophie rolled her eyes.  
“Couldn’t say. Scare him a little, won’t you? Don’t want him trying to neck again.”  
Agatha sighed, but both women knew it took only a glance from Lady A to send him scurrying- which it did, easily.  
Agatha smirked a little despite herself, watching him duck around to the back of his group.  
“Poor little bunny. You’re awful mean to him. He that kid you threatened to send Hester after?”  
Sophie grinned at the memory.   
“Yeah, same one. I’d nearly forgot.”  
Agatha smiled too, but now she was watching the stage.  
“When’s he on?”  
Sophie shrugged.  
“Not sure. Soon, I think.” She paused. “You think he’s a PI or something? Or a spy?”  
Agatha tapped her fingers on the table, frowning-   
But before she could reply, the lights lowered, the curtains were pulled back, and the air was suddenly filled with hollers and catcalls.  
“Let’s see if he’s as good as you say he is, first.” Said Agatha, and refocused her attention to the figure currently perched on the piano.   
Sophie’s stomach clenched, but who she was more worried about- her newest act, or herself- she wasn’t sure.

-

He was good. Agatha couldn’t deny it.

She watched Tedros slide gracefully from the piano, and caught a slight, anxious, square of his shoulders- momentary, but interesting; why was he so tense?- before he slunk across the stage to the microphone with graceful, careful steps, his heels snapping on the polished wood. Light glinted off the sequins on his short dress, and she couldn’t help but note his long, stocking-clad legs and slender, gloved hands that took a grip on the mic stand. He was in almost a full face of makeup- full, scarlet lips and dark-lined eyes that emphasised the light colour of his irises. He was blond, with naturally curly hair encircled by a headband, and Agatha had to admit that he was remarkably good-looking- or had at least been made up to look that way.

He had a decent voice- maybe she would class it as better if she was feeling generous towards him, which she was not, at current. Sophie always did a good job of choosing talented performers- only, this time, it was possible he was not only just that.  
Agatha saw him plant a hand on his hip and turn to saunter down into the crowd, which had gone from hollering to enraptured near-silence. Did she think Tedros was a private investigator? A police officer? A spy? 

She watched him glide around the room and hoist himself up onto a table which several (clearly drunk) girls were seated around, still singing loud enough for most of the bar to hear him. He leaned down and tilted a girl’s chin up with a gloved hand, their faces nearly touching, and Agatha was fairly sure the girl all but passed out.   
She rolled her eyes as Tedros slid himself off the table and carried on his way, leaving the girl fanning herself vigorously and several others goggling after him, open-mouthed.  
She had to admit it was impossible to tell. If he was a spy, he was very good at his job.   
Then again, Agatha thought, watching him take hold of Hort’s tie, causing the boy to go scarlet, that statement also applied if he wasn’t any sort of spy at all. 

Tedros took his sweet time getting around the room, but he somehow managed to keep interest, both with his voice and his other assets. Even Sophie, who’d hired him, turned a faint pink as he ran his hand lightly across their table as he finally returned to the stage to finish the song, the heavy scent of rose trailing after him. Agatha had to concede; he was very talented, and he’d bring them good money- provided he wasn’t trying to bring them down from the inside.   
Tedros finished the song, and the silence was shattered by raucous applause, whistles, and cheers- Agatha saw several roses thrown onto the stage for him, and quite a number of people still looked to be in some sort of trance. As he took an elegant bow for the crowd and collected his flowers, he straightened back up, and looked out into the crowd-  
And met her eyes.  
For a second, neither of them moved.  
Then Tedros grinned and winked at her.  
Agatha raised an eyebrow, and she could have sworn she heard him laugh from where she was before he took another bow and swished away, sequins following him out.

-

After the bar had returned to its normal level of rowdiness- which, Agatha had noted, had taken a good while longer than usual- she followed Sophie backstage, where they headed for the dressing rooms. Sophie stopped in front of the second door and knocked lightly once or twice, but she didn’t wait for a reply before swishing inside, Agatha following silently behind.

The dressing room doubled as a bedroom for the acts, but always seemed to be more functional as a sitting room- a little too small to be a comfortable living space, and often heavy with whatever perfume the performer was favouring that night. Agatha generally found them unpleasant, but Sophie insisted they were fine.   
Tonight, however, both of the small windows were open, and several lamps were on, making it much more breathable. 

Tedros lounged on one of the two sofas, still in his stage clothes, but his heels were visible, tossed haphazardly under the vanity, with his gloves draped over the mirror. Agatha studied him impassively as she closed the door behind her and stayed stood there, even as Sophie trotted forwards to be illuminated by the lamplight.  
Their newest performer grinned at her, a lopsided, self-confident smile which she did not return, and greeted them cheerfully.   
“Hi, ladies. What can I do for you?”  
Sophie, of course, giggled. Agatha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He might not have been sauntering around the bar and making girls faint now, but it seemed that he was still a charmer off the stage- or at least fancied he was.   
“You did fabulous, tonight, Teddy.” She simpered.   
Oh, for god’s sake. Teddy? Had she got a concussion? Why in God’s name would you ever come up with such a stupid nickname?  
Agatha sighed quietly and leaned against the door, praying Sophie would get to the point soon, as Tedros bowed his head a little in an admission of the compliment, letting Sophie continue to talk.   
“We wanted to come and see you- have a chat, you know?”  
Tedros flashed that stupid grin again. Agatha considered firing him on the spot, purely out of spite.   
“I’m real honoured, I gotta say. Come, sit down.”  
Sophie smiled and did as he said, but Agatha remained where she was, stood by the door.   
If Tedros cared, he didn’t show it. Sophie was already making herself at home- she whipped a cigarette packet from her pocket and offered it to Tedros, but he waved a scarlet-nailed hand.  
“No, thanks. Don’t smoke.”  
Sophie rolled her eyes, lighting her own.  
“Don’t smoke, don’t drink- if you weren’t dressed like that, darling, I’d suggest you didn’t fit in here.”  
Tedros smiled dryly, scuffing a stocking clad foot on the wood floor.  
“You hired me, doll.”  
Sophie giggled.  
Agatha promptly decided that she had heard enough.

She cleared her throat, watching Tedros carefully.   
“I didn’t come here to watch you flirt with my sister, Mr…?”  
“Meredith.” Tedros supplied promptly. His face looked perfectly composed, and to anyone else’s eye, it would have seemed he was telling the truth. But Agatha watched his throat bob very slightly, and his fingers tighten subtly on the strap of his dress, and she knew she’d been right.  
However, Tedros continued on, unconcerned.   
“But you can call me whatever you want, baby.”  
He winked at her. Agatha gave him a withering look, which Tedros didn’t seem the least bit cowed by- he just laughed.  
“Well then, what did you come here for?” he asked. The question was posed mildly enough, but Agatha caught the same square of his shoulders from earlier on. Nerves again- but this time, for something else. What?  
Agatha looked at him carefully for a minute. She didn’t think he was stupid. He probably knew- or, at least, suspected- who she was. He was just acting like he didn’t care.  
Tedros stared back, casually drawing a rose from the vase near his seat as he did so- presumably one of the ones he’d been thrown- and twirling it idly between his fingers.  
Trying to distract her. Hiding his nerves, by giving her something else to focus on.   
Clever, but not clever enough.   
Not to fool Lady A.

“How long you been using Meredith as your surname?”   
May as well start blunt, she reasoned. It often worked well.  
But Tedros merely raised an eyebrow.  
“Far as I know, folks use their surnames from when they’re born.”  
“Sure, most folks do.” Agatha agreed. “But if you were doin’ that, I’d be addressing you proper, not as Tedros Meredith-”   
She leaned forwards a little, just enough to make him tense.  
“-but as Tedros Pendragon.”  
Tedros’s fingers caught, and one of the thorns nicked his hand.  
This was the part Agatha hadn’t told Sophie- she’d known his real name the second she’d told her his fake one. There was little in the city that got past her. But getting someone to admit it was more important than her knowing.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Said Tedros, as blood welled from the cut and spotted on the floor. His speech had changed. Precise. Proper.   
Said like a proper gentleman.  
Sophie stared at them, stunned.   
Agatha leaned back. She’d get him to admit it, she was sure. But his job was relying on how he did it, and what else he revealed.  
“Don’t you? I heard about it weeks ago- Mr Arthur Pendragon’s son, sneaking out of their townhouse every night, stealing into speakeasies and vaudevilles- most of ‘em mine, I might add- looking for a nice job under a fake name.”  
Tedros didn’t move. Agatha carried on.  
“He left for good last week, I hear. Arthur didn’t seem to notice much.”  
She shook her head. Tedros bit his lip nervously, smudging his lipstick, but his gaze remained steady nonetheless.  
“You-”  
Agatha cut him off.  
“If you’re gonna pretend to be someone else, sweetheart, you don’t use your runaway mother’s maiden name.”  
That got him.

The colour was all but gone from Tedros’s face now. Slowly, but still, gracefully, he unfurled himself from the sofa and slid across the room to retrieve a handkerchief, presumably to avoid staining his dress with blood. Agatha waited patiently.   
It wasn’t until he was sat down again that he looked back up at her, setting his jaw. Agatha had to admire his bravery. Most people would have still been denying it.  
“What are you gonna to do to me, then?” he asked. Quiet. Anxious.  
Agatha looked at him.  
“You admit it?”  
“There any point in denying it?” Tedros asked, trying to struggle back into his old manner and not really succeeding.  
“No.”  
“Then, sure, it’s true.”   
Sophie hadn’t uttered a word, and it seemed she still didn’t know what to do. She was onto her third cigarette, though. Nerves.   
Tedros had lost all his bravado now. Agatha suddenly noticed how young he looked, even with all his makeup on- he was probably her age. The stem of the rose in his hand had snapped, and she could see he was sweating.  
Agatha had a sudden urge to laugh. He wasn’t a spy. He wasn’t a threat. Didn’t drink, didn’t smoke- she should have seen it right away. He was just a disenchanted rich boy who liked to flirt and sing, looking for an escape from his austere lifestyle and dismissive father. He was no police investigator.   
“You gonna fire me?”  
Tedros’s voice broke back into her thoughts, and she refocused on his anxious face.  
“I know who you are.” He added.   
“Oh yeah?”  
“You’re Lady A. You own this place, right?”  
“Right.”  
The unspoken bit, that he clearly knew, was the part about her being a mob boss. She saw his eyes dart to her pockets, no doubt remembering rumours of her proficiency with guns.  
She left him to squirm anxiously for a few seconds and then turned to Sophie.   
“You hired him, yeah?”  
Sophie looked uncomfortable.  
“Uh-huh. I didn’t know he was using a fake name, but- oh, you’re not going to fire him, are you?”  
Agatha looked at her for a second. Then she lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  
“If he maintains the performance value I saw tonight, we ain’t gonna have a problem.”  
Tedros’s stocking clad feet slipped on the floor, and he almost fell off the sofa.   
So much for elegance, it seemed.   
Sophie sighed, relieved and also a little exasperated.  
“You could’ve made that so much shorter.”  
“What’s it that you say? It’s showbiz?”  
Sophie laughed.  
Agatha turned back to Tedros, who didn’t seem to be able to decide if he wanted to smile or cry.  
“But you were nervous tonight. Don’t let it show, next time.”  
Agatha, motioning for Sophie to follow her, reached for the door-  
“Wait!”

She caught the heavy scent of the rose perfume from earlier, and Tedros’s hand caught her wrist. She turned back around to meet his gaze, realising how close together they were stood. Now she realised how, without heels, he was more or less the same height as her, albeit a lot broader in the shoulders. Funny. He’d managed to look smaller when he’d been performing. Now they were a lot closer, she noticed how clear his eyes were, as well.  
Some of his hair was in his eyes, and Agatha had a sudden impulse to move it-   
Then she realised he was talking.  
“I… um… thank you.” Tedros managed. “For letting me stay, I mean. What can I do? To repay you?”  
Agatha looked at him for a second.  
“Don’t ladder your stockings tomorrow. It’s unprofessional for a fella like you.”  
Bewildered, Tedros looked down at his legs as Agatha and Sophie left, presumably noticing the rip Agatha had just noticed.  
Sophie tutted at her as they headed back down the corridor, and went to speak-  
They heard a mutter behind them, quiet enough that they nearly missed it;  
“You noticed it.”  
Agatha sighed, and turned to Sophie, speaking loud enough for anyone who might have been still standing at their dressing room door, to hear it;  
“Sophie, when you see him tomorrow, remind Mr Meredith that he ain’t on a permanent contract.”  
Sophie laughed, and they headed back down the corridor together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the coven (or, really, just hester) confront agatha about her newest appointment, and said newest appointment has a knack for arriving at bad times

“I don’t like it. I don’t like him.”  
Hester stalked up and down the length of Agatha’s office, scowling. Anadil and Dot’s heads swivelled back and forth, watching her pace, from where they were stood quietly by the door. Agatha sat at her desk, ignoring all three of them. She knew Hester would get to the point eventually.  
“This is crazy. Insane.”  
Hester turned on her heel again and came striding over to Agatha’s desk.  
About time. Agatha was fast running out of paperwork to do.  
“Agatha, listen.”  
The other woman slowly lifted her eyes to meet Hester’s. Glaring, Hester planted her ring-clad, scarred hands on Agatha’s desk and leaned forwards. Agatha met her gaze, frowning.  
“You’re being real thick in the head right now, so I’m gonna put it out here real clear- you shouldn’t have hired him, and I want rid of him.”  
“Not once have you mentioned a name to me.”  
“You know who I mean!” barked Hester. “You knew the second I stepped in here what I was mad about!”  
Agatha didn’t answer her, not that she really needed to. It was clear, Hester was right. She was just unwilling to discuss it with her. Why that was, she found herself unsure.  
Hester growled, furious at her lack of response.  
“We go on a job for you for three solid months. We did it right. Did it proper. We get back here, lookin’ to let you know we did it, and the second I got in here, you know who came up to me, to tell me all about our air-tight new flapper boy?”  
“Any of about five people?” offered Agatha, knowing for sure that both the Evergirls and Chaddick, their fists and occasional pianist, had grown fond of their newest recruit. Not to mention-  
“Sophie. Know what she let slip?”  
Agatha rolled her eyes.  
“That he’s General Arthur Pendragon’s runaway son, and not only am I allowing him to perform and make money at Avalon, he’s also rumoured to have been dragged into our operations and knows pretty much everything there is to know about our activity?”  
Hester’s nostril’s flared.  
“Yeah.”  
“Thought so.” Said Agatha, signing off another paper.  
“You don’t seem very concerned.” Remarked Dot from by the door.  
“I’m not.” Agreed Agatha. She wasn’t concerned about Tedros’s appointment at all, anymore. She knew enough to be sure of his trustworthiness. She had been apprehensive about Hester’s reaction, though-

A vein in the other woman’s neck pulsed, jerking her tattoo- just enough to make it seem to be moving itself, it’s heart beating along with Hester’s. The sight of that horned demon clawing up her neck was a dreadful signal to many a person- mainly because most people that encountered Hester did not last too long after that.  
Anadil had left her position from beside the door, and now her pale fingers curled around the elbow of Hester’s suit jacket, tugging her quietly away from Agatha’s desk. Unlikely as it seemed, Anadil often tried to keep the peace between Hester and others- if not only because last time she hadn’t, Sophie and Hester had had a screaming match in one of the speakeasies after hours, a very expensive bottle of liquor had been shattered, and Agatha’s shin had been sliced open by the broken glass. She still had the scar.  
Hester took a deep breath, fists clenching and unclenching- until, finally, she stepped away from the desk, Anadil still pulling her gently backwards.  
If Agatha, or Dot, or anyone else, for that matter, had tried that, they’d have likely only made it worse.  
Agatha hid her grin behind the file she was moving. It seemed there was some substance to Sophie’s gossip after all.  
“Fine. But I want to know exactly why you thought this was a good idea.”  
Agatha sighed, tossing the file onto a pile and leaning back.  
“I didn’t hire him. Sophie did.”  
“So?”  
“So, I was initially just as suspicious as you. I went to check on the first night he performed.”  
“And?”  
“Scared him half to death getting his real name out of him, but he ain’t a spy. He-”  
“Is this a bad time?”  
Hester spun so fast Agatha was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash.

Their topic of conversation was stood in the doorway, looking decidedly uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of three unfamiliar pairs of eyes.  
“… I can come back later.” Tedros said awkwardly, displaying precisely none of the grace and charm he had on stage, even though he was wearing his stage outfit. Agatha briefly wondered how they hadn’t heard him coming in those heels.  
Before Agatha could reply, Hester had interrupted.  
“No, stay. I wanna meet the kid who’s got everyone in such a tizzy.”  
Tedros stared at her, and Agatha saw him take in the three women’s appearances- all three of them in their black suits and hats, Hester with hers pulled down to shadow her dark eyes. Only Dot looked in the slightest bit approachable: Hester and Anadil gave off a distinct aura of put a toe out of line and I’ll plug you full of holes, which Agatha knew was exactly how they liked it.

Hester leaned back on Agatha’s desk and lit a cigarette, clearly ignoring Agatha’s disapproving look, gazing at Tedros from under the brim of her hat. Tedros frowned uncomfortably, shooting Agatha uncertain glances, which Agatha mostly ignored. She’d only intervene if Hester looked like she was actually going to do something nefarious to Tedros, which was probably averagely likely.  
Tedros seemed to sense he wasn’t going to get any intervention from her any time soon, and his shoulders squared slightly, in that now-familiar steeling of nerves.  
Dot and Anadil were muttering to each other, surveying Tedros as he and Hester stared at each other in silence-  
Tedros broke first, as usual.  
But what Agatha hadn’t been expecting him to do was smile.  
Tedros smirked coyly and very deliberately pulled his wrap tighter around his shoulders, a finger toying with one of the straps of his dress.  
“If you wanna stare, baby, you can always come to the show tonight.”  
There was a short pause, in which Hester seemed to have frozen, and Tedros only smirked more.  
Agatha tried to look impassive, but internally she was banging her head on the desk. Was he trying to get shot? The two close shaves which had gotten him into their circle should have been warning enough, and she’d thought he was at least clever enough to work out that Hester was not to be provoked-  
Dot leaned over to Agatha.  
“Uh… boss?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Has he got a death wish, or…?”  
Hester bolted upright, and Anadil made no attempt to stop her, this time. Based on the look on her face, it seemed she was perfectly happy to see Tedros ripped to shreds after that-  
Hester lunged and grabbed the front of Tedros’s dress, dragging him towards her.  
“He’s got a death wish.” Confirmed Dot glumly. “I was just starting to think I was gonna like him, too.”  
“You goddamn high hat!” seethed Hester, scarlet with fury. “I’ll tell you something, baby, I can-”  
Agatha decided it was time to intervene.  
“Hester, let go of him. I aint’ wasting time trying to stop you from ripping his throat out.”  
Very reluctantly, Hester dropped Tedros, and turned to her, scowling.  
“You know I ain’t gonna, unless you tell me to.”  
“Sure seemed like it, though.” Said Agatha, then turned to Tedros, who looked remarkably unruffled, and rather pleased. Why he was pleased that Hester had tried to beat him up, Agatha had no idea.  
“Meredith, these charming dolls are Hester, Anadil and Dot. The one who tried to bump you off is Hester, that’s Anadil, and that’s Dot.”  
Tedros smiled, even though only Dot had waved at him- Hester and Anadil were glaring at him as if they were trying their utmost to kill him with their minds.  
“Charmed.”

He wandered over and perched himself on the corner of Agatha’s desk, bringing his heavy rose scent with him. Hester’s gaze darkened even more. Agatha had to appreciate how protective she was, even if it was often misplaced- surely by now, it was obvious that Tedros wasn’t particularly threatening, if far too cocky.  
She peered up at Tedros, eyebrows raised.  
“You bent?”  
“Don’t drink, do I?” smiled Tedros, crossing his ankles and tugging at his gloves.  
“Then what the hell d’you think you’re doing?”  
Tedros’s smile slipped a little.  
“Need to talk to you.” He muttered, tugging harder on the fabric of his gloves, something Agatha had identified as a nervous habit of his.  
“Sure that’s all you wanna do?” snarked Anadil. Tedros frowned. Agatha ignored her.  
“What-” Tedros began, but Agatha cut him off.  
“Ignore her. Why d’you need to sit on my desk to ask me something?”  
Tedros shrugged, but Agatha saw him cast a glance at the Coven loitering close by, and got the idea.  
She also suspected she knew what he might be coming to see her about. 

“You three, clear off. Good work on the job, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
Dot and Anadil did as she said, but Hester stopped in the doorway, staring at her suspiciously.  
“Where you going tonight, then?”  
Agatha shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner.  
“Might go to the show. Figured you’re not, is all.”  
Hester’s face darkened.  
“At Avalon?”  
“Sure.”  
Her eyes moved over to Tedros, who winked at her.  
“I think you’ll find I’m real popular, baby. Sure you don’t want to see what all the fuss is about?”  
Hester sneered at him and turned back to Agatha.  
“You never used to go.” She accused.  
“What’s it to you?” demanded Agatha.  
Hester remained silent for a few moments, eyes flicking between Tedros and Agatha…  
Then she spun on her heel and slammed the door so hard behind her that one of the panes of glass fell out.  
Tedros and Agatha sat there, staring at the shattered pane of glass on the floor and listening to the coven’s footsteps fade away.

“Is there a reason she hates me?” Tedros asked after a remarkably long pause. Agatha sighed.  
“Forget it, Meredith. It’s lots of things.”  
“Oh.”  
Tedros put his elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. Agatha stared at the sparkly back of his dress, wondering when he was going to bring it up-  
“What’s your real name?”  
Well, that was unexpected.  
Agatha blinked at him, as he shuffled around to stare at her.  
“Wh- uh, why?”  
“Well, everyone else uses what I assume are their real names. You don’t.”  
Agatha, who had almost forgotten he didn’t know hers, just stared at him for a minute, disarmed by a completely unexpected question.  
“I… assume that’s not what you wanted to get rid of the Coven for, huh?”  
Tedros sagged.  
“No. Just occurred to me now.”  
Probably because she used his fake name- although for Tedros, it suggested she trusted him, rather than otherwise.  
“What did you want, then?” Agatha asked, trying to steer him away from the topic of her name.  
Tedros hesitated. The fading sunlight in the window behind him tinted his skin pink and orange, and cast him into dramatic shadow.  
“Oh. Uh, well- my… um. My father-”  
He stopped. Agatha noticed that he’d slid back into the way of speaking she’d managed to get out of him on the first day they’d met, the pampered-rich-heir-not-quite-at-ease precision and openness that had first convinced her he could be trusted. 

“Um… well, I’ve been here a for a bit, now, and- erm… well-”  
Agatha gave up on pretending she didn’t know. Listening to him stumble was painful.  
“You’re worried that your father is gonna start looking for you and causing a fuss, and you wanna go and see him to give him a cover story which explains why you keep disappearing off?”  
Tedros blinked.  
“Oh. Um. Yeah. Yes. That was… yeah. That.”  
“That’s a crap idea.”  
No point in sugar-coating it.  
“…I know, but I thought maybe you could help?”  
“Why should I?”  
It was a good question. Lady A wouldn’t do anything for anyone, not without something being in it for her. Everything was a deal. That was the way it worked, out here.  
Tedros straightened at her words, though. It seemed he’d considered it and had an answer for her.  
“Well, you wouldn’t want my father kicking up a fuss, because you’d have to intervene and then people would work out you had me, and he’d go mad, probably, and there’d be even more police after you, and…”  
He trailed off at the expression on her face.  
“Or, I could just fire you and force you to pipe down?” Offered Agatha.  
Tedros gawked at her.  
Agatha bit back a grin at the look on his face.  
“I sign off your paycheck, don’t I? You ain’t cheap, y’know. It’d save me lots of trouble just to get rid of you.”  
Tedros stared at her, eyes wide and scarlet lips parted with mingling anxiety and surprise. 

Agatha let him gape for a minute- and then snorted.  
“I’m not serious, you sap. Gimme until tomorrow evening.”  
“For what?”  
Agatha raised an eyebrow.  
“You wanna stay, right? So I’ve gotta make up a cover story for you to give to your old man.”  
“You’re going to help?” spluttered Tedros, apparently hardly able to believe his luck.  
Agatha shrugged.  
“Sure.”  
Tedros leapt off the desk, beaming.  
“Thank you!”  
Agatha decided not to tell him that she had a strong suspicion that Arthur wouldn’t want to see him, so she just nodded.  
“Hurry up, you’re going to be late for the show.”  
“Oh- yeah, the show! Yeah, alright-”  
Tedros hurried across to the door-  
And then paused in the middle of the room, and turned back.  
“Are you not coming?” he asked, and Agatha rather thought she caught a note of disappointment in his voice.  
She crushed the impulse to be rather pleased by that, waved him on.  
“I’ll see you there. Hurry up, for god’s sake! Doesn’t pay to be late, Meredith.”  
“Right, yeah-”  
Agatha watched him trot across the rest of the room, sorting his hair as he went-

Just as his hand closed around the door handle, Agatha made a decision. 

“Agatha.” She said.  
Quickly, before she could lose her nerve.  
Tedros turned to look at her. Silhouetted in the doorway, she could only really see part of his face, and the sequins on his dress casting tiny lights across her office.  
“What?”  
Agatha leaned back, wondering what the hell she was doing.  
“You asked what my real name is. It’s Agatha.”  
Tedros blinked, the light catching the glitter on his eyelids and cheekbones-  
And then he grinned- so obviously she couldn’t miss it, even when he was cast in shadow.  
“Well, then. See you at the show, Agatha.”  
He disappeared out of the door and closed it silently behind him.  
Agatha watched him go, listening to him whistle merrily to himself, until he turned the corner, and she could hear him no longer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hort and tedros hate each other (what's new?) and agatha doesn't take kindly to people blackmailing her performers

If there was one thing that Hort would maintain until his dying day, it was this: it wasn't his fault.

None of that stupid encounter was his fault! Neither was the one after. Or the one after that!

And now he was stuck, playing piano in this hot, smoky, noisy bar-

Okay, no, start at the beginning.

It had all begun when he'd nearly been run over by a mob boss.

\--

It had been a dusty, warm, June evening when Hort had finally finished his shift at the butchers. Ravan had suggested that they head down to some club or another, so he cleaned up and sauntered down the road, enjoying the sun on his back and listening to the sounds of the city behind him. This part of the city was less… reputable than further uptown, but he liked it just fine. At any rate, it was definitely more interesting.

(Depending on what your definition of "interesting" was, anyway.)

Well, maybe it wasn't a good idea to go out at night alone, and the alleys were places you definitely wanted to avoid, and there were all sorts of rumours about mafia and gangs and what-have-you, and people seemed to get beaten up every other day, but it wasn't all that bad. The abundance of speakeasies was definitely a plus.

He, Ravan and Vex had usually preferred to frequent just one, but after an... incident with the manager, (for which both Ravan and Vex blamed him) they no longer attended, and had been forced to look elsewhere. Ravan had attended a new one last night, and come back both very drunk and very excited about it.

So now all three of them were headed to Club Avalon; bigger, busier, and better, according to Ravan.

(So that meant better alcohol.)

But he'd go anyway- what damage could it do?

Whistling, he adjusted his tie and tucked his hands into his pockets, trying to look nonchalant as he neared the building where he knew the speakeasy was concealed-

A movement caught his eye.

Hort turned to see a boy about his age hurry out of a side alley, collar pulled up despite the warm weather, and rush towards the same building he was headed to, eyes fixed firmly downwards.

Bewildered, Hort stopped in his tracks. Although the collar obscured some of his face, he still recognised him.

That was Tedros Pendragon, General Arthur's son. They lived uptown, in a swanky townhouse, and generally kept very much to themselves. After Arthur's wife had left him for his best friend, he'd fought hard to stay respectable and salvage his reputation, despite being the gossip topic of choice for many in the area. Hort only knew Tedros because his mother worked as housekeeper for them. Despite being a similar age to him, Hort had barely ever seen Arthur's son outside of the house- Tedros had been privately tutored in his youth, and even nowadays, even though he had to be about nineteen or, he never seemed to leave the house alone. Hort guessed that Arthur would certainly go to great lengths to keep him in line and stop him from doing anything even remotely illegal.

So what was Tedros Pendragon doing at a speakeasy?

That was obviously where he was headed, Hort decided, as Tedros reached the door-

He glanced behind him, and Hort's jaw dropped. Was he wearing lipstick-?

Tedros locked eyes with him, and Hort didn't move fast enough to look as if he hadn't been staring-

His thoughts were shattered as the roar of an engine erupted behind him- horn blared, and a girl's voice roared;

"MOVE, SAP!"

Hort flung himself to the side and hit the ground hard, skinning his elbow and jarring his back, as a car roared by. Swerving madly to avoid him, tyres screeching on the ground, it careened past and he saw the passengers thrown against each other.

Groaning, he sat up just in time to see several young women hanging out of the back- was the blonde one holding a drink?- and two more sat in the front, and noticed both the single-fingered gesture the driver aimed at him, and the woman in the dark coat and hat sat in the passenger seat, watching him shrewdly in the wing-mirror-

Then the car swung around the corner and was gone, dust drifting aimlessly in its wake.

Panting, Hort staggered to his feet, examining the new rip in his sleeve and lamenting the dust all over his shirt-

And noticed Tedros was gone.

"Damn it!"

He kicked the curb, cursing his bad luck. He'd wanted to know what he was doing down here- it had left him intensely curious. He could follow him, but he'd promised to wait for Ravan and Vex, and there'd be no finding him once they got into the club- there'd be dozens of young men there, and no doubt Tedros would be desperate to avoid him.

\--

He was half right. He didn't see Tedros Pendragon in the club, that was for damn sure.

Hort's absolute last guess would have been that Tedros was a flapper- but there he was, every night, perched on that piano, with a much nicer voice than Hort thought was fair, and was swiftly dubbed The Prince of Avalon, which really was just stupid.

But by the end of that night, he was feeling rather compelled to try and strike up a conversation with him, stupid alias or not.

Because he had just gotten a good look at the blonde woman sat in the booth near the stage, and rather wondered if he might be able to help.

\--

"Hey, doll."

The blonde girl eyed him over the top of her glass, and Hort felt rather uncomfortable- her eyes were an oddly piercing green that made him feel rather too scrutinised.

Hort swallowed down his discomfort and tried for a cocksure smile.

"I don't think I know you?"

"No… don't think you do." Said the woman, setting her glass down on the table and peering over at the stage, from where Tedros had since descended and disappeared into the crowd.

Rather disappointed by her lack of interest, but also not surprised, Hort decided to give it a go.

"Well… what do they call you?"

She turned those piercing eyes on him again and raised a perfect brow.

"What do they call you? What makes you think you can talk to me, darling?"

Hort was sweating now.

"Um… I'm-"

"Sophie- hey, ain't you that kid from earlier?"

Tedros came sailing out of the crowd with a clattering of heels and pearls, a boy on each arm, and a grin that suggested absolutely nothing good plastered on his face.

The woman- Sophie- sat up.

"From when, Teddy?"

Teddy?

But Hort had no time to lament the nickname- "Teddy" was too busy talking loudly about him.

"Oh, earlier... how's your elbow?" asked Tedros loudly, eyes glittering with a menace which Hort felt was completely unfounded, considering they barely ever exchanged more than a few words. "Must hurt… when you gotta jump outta the way like that."

"Oh!" Sophie laughed, then, apparently remembering. "Oh, you're the fella who we nearly bumped off with the car! Aw, poor little mug…"

She grinned.

Hort could see both Sophie and Tedros scrutinising his dusty jacket, ripped sleeve, and grazed hands, now, as well as people nearby, who were starting to snigger as well.

"You really thought she'd wanna talk to you?" smirked Tedros. " 'Cause-"

Scowling, Hort shouldered past him before he could finish his sentence and stalked away, leaving them laughing, behind him.

\--

All the same, at the end of the show, Hort approached him.

"Hey, big-timer."

Tedros raised a brow from where he was sat- in the centre of a circle composed of fawning girls and boys alike.

"Do I know you?" he asked as if he hadn't just deliberately humiliated him ten minutes ago, toying with the string of pearls looped around his neck.

Hort rolled his eyes internally.

"Maybe a little. Can I talk to you?"

Tedros leaned back, eyeing him rather petulantly.

"You might have to wait a bit, baby. I've got an audience."

Hort forced a smile.

"Well, sure. The name's Scourie, by the way. I think my mother knows your old man…?"

He left the question hanging, watching as Tedros went still. He obviously hadn't expected him to bring it up in front of a group.

Hort bit back a smirk. His guess had paid off- clearly, Arthur didn't know anything about this, and Tedros intended to keep it that way.

Tedros smiled tightly at him and pulled his gloves up his arms with two quick jerks, suddenly tense.

"Aw, well… maybe we can go for a quick chat- I'll be right back." He told his disappointed group.

His admirers sighed and clucked and glared as Tedros slid off of the table and led Hort through a door, to where he assumed was backstage-

"What do you want, Hort?" Tedros snapped, slamming the door and rounding on him.

"Oh, so you do know me?" demanded Hort.

"Of course I do, idiot, what are you even doing here?"

"What are you doing here? Is this your summer job?"

Tedros called him something very unsavoury. Hort ignored him.

"I need a favour."

"What makes you think I'd do you a favour?"

"Because you decided to humiliate me in front of Sophie?"

"She's not interested." Said Tedros shortly. Hort thought that was unfair- Sophie had hardly spoken to him before Tedros had interrupted them-

Wait, Tedros didn't like her, did he?

"Why should I help you?" Tedros pressed again.

Suddenly feeling a bit less inclined to joke, Hort's next question was fired out with a little more aggression than was probably strictly necessary;

"How's your old man?"

Tedros blinked, stunned- and then clenched his teeth, going scarlet under his powder.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Why not? Why would it hurt me?"

Tedros's hand curled tight around his pearls.

"I… you're blackmailing me-"

"It's only a little favour." Promised Hort. "And I won't tell anyone if you help me."

"… What is it?" Tedros asked through gritted teeth.

"Well- Sophie. Can you put in a good word for me?"

Tedros mouthed wordlessly for a second. Hort waited expectantly-

"You're actually blackmailing me because I embarrassed you in front of the girl you think is a looker? Over Sophie?" he exploded. "There is no way in hell-"

"Well, there is something else, while I think of it…"

"What?" snapped Tedros.

"Give my mother a pay rise?"

"…I can't believe that was an afterthought."

"Is that a yes?"

"I don't pay the staff." Muttered Tedros.

"Convince your old man, then." Dismissed Hort.

"I…" Tedros's jaw worked furiously. "I'll try."

One down. One to go.

"And this Sophie?" Hort pressed. "You know her? Ravan says that she's in charge of the performers. Is she your boss?"

"Yes, she is- oh, my god, just talk to her! I'm not going to help you on that!"

"No, you weren't very helpful." agreed Hort. "But, then again, maybe if you weren't here to stop me talking to her…"

He gave him a very pointed look.

"Is this some sort of game to you?" demanded Tedros furiously, fists clenched so hard he was starting to shake, the sequins and tassels on his dress swinging erratically.

"If you just do this, my friend-"

"I am not your friend!"

"-we won't have a problem."

Tedros glowered at him.

Hort shrugged.

"You know, you can say no… but I was planning on heading down to see my mother at work tomorrow-"

"FINE!" Tedros all but shrieked, scaring a passing flapper girl. "FINE!"

"Attaboy."

"Go to hell!" Tedros spat, and barged past him, leaving Hort grinning in the dingy hallway.

\--

A week later, Hort was walking on air. He'd managed to convince Tedros to do him a couple of other favours, (like a discount on the liquor), and while things with Sophie weren't exactly going great (apparently she wasn't a fan of butcher's boys), she would at least tolerate his presence.

So, that night, Hort headed down to the speakeasy with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. This was going so much better than he'd thought-

He'd barely reached the door before it happened.

"Hort Scourie?"

A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Hort looked up into the face of a woman- a woman barely older than him, but much taller, with dark hair and eyes and a broad-brimmed hat-

And a gun tucked into her belt.

Oh, no.

"…no?" Hort ventured, wondering if it would actually work. The woman gave him a withering look.

"My boss wants to see you."

\--

And then it wasn't so good.

Tedros, as it turned out, had not been happy about being blackmailed.

At all.

"Heard you've been threatenin' my Tedros." Said the woman behind the desk, swilling the whiskey in her glass idly.

Hort gaped at Tedros, stood stiffly behind her (and for once not in a dress), and spun back to the woman who had been introduced as "Lady A"- the same woman he'd seen in the front of the car that day several weeks ago.

"I… what? No!" And then, quickly, when she raised an eyebrow. "Not threatening. Just sort of…"

"Blackmailing?"

"Yes. No! Wait-"

"Si' down." Said the woman, cutting off his floundering speech and waving him to the seat in front of her desk. "Whiskey?"

"… no. Thanks." Said Hort, wondering if she was going to try and poison him.

"Tedros don't spoil for it either- do you, Ted?" Mused Lady A. Tedros shook his head silently, fiddling with his shirt collar, two pink spots evident on his cheeks. Apparently, he'd sold Hort out to whoever the hell this was.

Whoever she was, she was clearly important, Hort thought, eyeing the décor and the quality of the furniture, as she sat back and stared at him silently.

There was a very awkward pause. Tedros stared at the floor. Lady A stared at Hort. Hort stared at the woman in the black hat stood by the window. The woman in the black hat glared at him. Hort stopped staring at her and stared at the wall instead.

"You admit that you were blackmailin' Tedros, then?" asked the Lady finally.

Hort, who had no idea what the right answer was, frowned.

And then thought a bit more.

"Well… yeah. He tell you what with?"

"No." said the Lady. From what Hort could tell, her eyes were still fixed firmly on him. "He didn't."

And if she didn't know that he was Arthur's son…

Hort was thinking fast.

"Well, I never really intended to do it, but- no, I didn't!" he blurted in response to Tedros's unconvinced look. "But what I said was that I would tell his father what he was doing here if he didn't help me- his father is a General! General Arthur Pendragon!"

"Really?" said the Lady. "That is interesting."

Hort tore his eyes away from the wall to grin at Tedros, who was staring at him silently.

"Yes! And my mother works in their house, so I could tell him really easily- he'd never approve, if he found out he could bring the whole establishment down-"

He looked over and stopped abruptly.

The Lady was smirking into her glass as she drained the rest of the drink.

"… you already knew, didn't you?" he said hopelessly.

"You absolute sap." She snorted, tossing the empty glass onto the desk and eyeing him with amusement. "You think I don't check up on the people I hang 'round with?"

"Wait… you're… friends?"

The woman in the hat by the window made a small, derisive sound. Tedros turned to glare at her, but the Lady just shrugged.

"Somethin' like that, sure."

Hort stared uselessly at her, wondering what the hell he was here for, if not information.

"Well… what do you want, then?"

"Let's pretend we're both respectable businesspeople for a minute." Said the Lady, standing from her chair and pacing around the back of it. "I'm makin' a deal with you."

"A… deal?"

The Lady propped her elbow on Tedros's shoulder- in heels, she was taller than him.

"Ted says that you're wanting to talk to my sister. Right?"

Hort's heart fell three feet and took out his appendix. The Lady smirked at the look of horror on his face.

"You're… sisters?" he croaked.

"Yeah, now shut up and listen. You can see my sister every day, and you can get a discount on the liquor, and I'll make sure Ted gets your mother that pay rise, plus nice clothes and getting your friends into the club easy… on one condition."

"What is it?" asked Hort, not sure if he actually had a choice, and also not liking how much he felt like he was the one being blackmailed now.

"Our pianist is… shall we say indisposed?"

"That's one word for it." Agreed the woman by the window, smiling rather unpleasantly.

"Indisposed?" questioned Hort. "But… I saw him last night. He looked fine. Maybe… maybe a bit drunk…"

Something glittered in the Lady's dark eyes. Behind her, the other woman shifted a little.

"Yeah. Looked a little too out on the roof, I'd say. Maybe takin' more than his fair share of drink, wouldn't you guess?"

Hort suddenly had a very bad feeling that he knew exactly what had happened to their previous pianist.

"… maybe." He said.

"Yeah, well. We need a new one, right?"

"…right." Agreed Hort, not liking where this was going.

"Well, workin' for Sophie still counts as talkin' to her, don't it?"

Even though he'd been expecting it, Hort's mouth fell open.

"I… no! I can't…"

He trailed off at the look on her face.

"…do I at least get another option?" he ventured hopefully.

"Oh, sure!"

"Really-?"

Hort jumped as Lady A slammed her hands on the table, leaned forward, and glared right into his eyes.

"I put a bullet in your knee for blackmailing my baby and leave you to crawl home. But with both options, I kick your sorry ass outta here with the knowledge that if you blab about anything to General Pendragon, there'll be a bullet somewhere much worse."

Hort stared, wide-eyed, into her mutinous face. Tedros, behind her, wore a very similar look of fury.

What could he do? Sure, he could refuse, and hope Tedros would stop her before she shot him- but Tedros didn't look very sympathetic right now, and she didn't look like someone to be reasoned with. And they were right, he was getting what he wanted…

No, he couldn't. This was ridiculous. This was too much. He would never be able to walk out from now on if he didn't refuse right now. Right now.

He looked up into her face, and steeled himself, taking a deep breath.

"I-"

Lady A raised an eyebrow.

Hort changed track completely.

"-will. I will do it. Yes. That... That. I'll do that. That job. Yes. Absolutely."

"Attaboy." Tedros mocked from behind the Lady's chair. Hort cast him a look of purest loathing, and a hand gesture to match.

The Lady eyed him as she sat back down and pulled out a sheaf of documents from a drawer.

"Great. Hester, Tedros, take Mr Scourie and show him the ropes."

Tedros and the other woman- Hester- did as she said, and Hort let himself be led towards the door, feeling a bit sick-

And then something occurred to him.

"Um…" he ventured, as he turned back around.

"What?" growled the woman from her desk.

"I… can't play piano."

The Lady looked up and stared at him for a second, contemplative.

And then she smiled nastily.

"Then you've got to learn quick, haven't you?"

\--

The second Hester had left, (leaving the two young men in a dressing room which was presumably Tedros's, based off the familiar costumes all over the place and the fact Tedros had had a key to it) Hort spun on the other boy, seething.

"You sold me out!"

"Yes, I did, and don't you dare try and debate morals with me, Scourie." Snarled Tedros, equally furious. "You've got what you wanted, haven't you?"

"No! I don't want to work in this stupid club, or learn to play piano-"

"You think I want to work with you?"

Tedros turned away from him and begun to sort his hair in the mirror, still scowling deeply. Hort growled, furious-

But curiosity was beginning to take over.

"Wait… who even was that? Who is this Lady A?"

"She's the owner of the club and a bunch of others." Said Tedros tersely. "She's your boss, now."

"Ain't she yours, too?"

Tedros made a non-committal noise.

Hort frowned, thinking of how he'd agreed to everything without even knowing her.

"She shouldn't have even had any influence over me-"

"You'd be a complete patsy to try and refuse her." Tedros snapped- still fiddling with his parting, but Hort rather thought his expression in the mirror had changed-

Suddenly about ten things made sense to Hort at once.

"Oh my god." He breathed. "She's a gangster, isn't she? She buys and sells all the alcohol- wait, did she actually kill the previous guy for stealing alcohol?"

"Paid him enough for him to be able to afford it anywhere, as well. Idiot." grumbled Tedros. "And not personally, no, she didn't."

Hort thought of Hester in her black suit and grimaced. He thought he knew who might have been sent to do it, instead.

"God, you're really in with it, huh? No wonder you don't want your dad to know…"

"S'pose so."

Hort peered at Tedros, unused to hearing him talk so shortly, especially after another jab at his dad…

And then something else clicked in his head.

"Wait, did she call you baby?"

"And what if she did?" said Tedros with far too much aggression. Hort goggled at him.

"Are you her boyfriend?"

Tedros spun to him, glaring, and blazing scarlet in the face.

"Okay, that's enough, get out! Go and get someone else to show you around, I'm fed up with you-"

"You are!" Hort grinned. "You're her gun moll! Oh, wow-"

"SHUT UP! GET OUT!"


End file.
